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Untitled Article
Ending where they began ; and they hare royed The boundless empyrean up and down , And , ' mid the undistinguished tumbling host Of the black clouds , have lighted on a soft And solitary spot of azure sky , Whereon they love to dwell . The clouds close in , And soon may shut it from my searching sight ; But let me still behold it while I may .
' Elena . You are so busy all day long , I feared A woman ' s company and trifling talk Would only importune you . Artevelde . Think not so . The sweets of converse and society Are sweetest when they ' re snatched ; the often-comer ,
The boon companion of a thousand feasts , Whose eye has grown familiar with the fair , Whose tutored tongue , by practice perfect made , Is tamely talkative , —he never knows That truest , rarest light of social joy , Which gleams upon the man of many cares .
* Elena . It is not every one could push aside A country ' s weight so lightly . ' Artevelde . By your leave , There are but few that on so grave a theme Continuously could ponder unrelieved . The heart of man , walk it which way it will ,
Sequestered or frequented , smooth or rousrh , Down the deep valley amongst tinkling flocks , Or ' mid the clang of trumpets and the march Of clattering ordnance , still must have its halt , Its hour of truce , its instant of repose , Its inn of rest ; and craving still must seek The food of its affections—still must slake
Its constant thirst of what is fresh and pure , And pleasant to behold . 4 Elena . To you that thirst , Despite inebriating draughts of glory , Despite ambition , power , and strife , remains ; But great men mostly lose the taste of joy . Save from such things as make their greatness greater , Which growing still o ' ershadows more and more Of less enjoyments , until all are sunk , In business of the state .
• Artevelde . * Tis otherwise , And ever was with me . It was not meant By him who on the back the burden bound , That cares , though public , critical , and grave , Should so encase us and encrust , as shuts The gate on what is beautiful below , And clogs those entries of the soul of man
Which lead the way to what he hath of heaven : This was not meant , and me may not befal While thou remind ' st me of those heavenly joys I once possessed in peace . Life—life , my friend , May hold a not unornamented course , Wherever it shall flow . Be the bed rocky Yet are there flowers , and none of brighter hue Than to the rock axe native . War itself
Untitled Article
Critical Notice * . 520
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), July 2, 1834, page 529, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2635/page/69/
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